Son of Poseidon: the Snake, the Vain, and the Pyre
by Drepanididae
Summary: Alex Conecke is heading back to camp, eager to see all of his friends from last Summer; only to find Camp Half-Blood in the midst of a serious mystery. Cybelle has been quiet all year, but could this be the Goddess showing her hand?
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Spirits Escape the Land of the Dead**

A young-looking lady sat at a desk, although with immortals, it's hard to tell how old they really are. She had a gentle glow about her as her pen hovered uncertainly over a pile of blank paper. She rolled her eyes with a huff that made a loose bit of hair flip over her little bronze tiara. The young lady found herself in an awkward position. She, Calliope, Muse of Epics, was experiencing Writer's Block.

A terrible thing to experience, particularly for a being who supposedly helped inspire human creativity. She pondered to herself how she was going to start her second opus about a hero of the modern age. She shrugged her shoulders and mused to herself, 'if it's not broke, don't fix it.'

She put her pen to the sheet and started scribbling away. Images of a dark dank place cluttered her thoughts.

* * *

The Fields of Asphodel sprawled out in all directions, seeming to go on forever. It needed to, the living quickly joined the ranks of the dead, to the annoyance of the Lord of the Dead. Countless spirits drifted across the black landscape, mindlessly walking about. A few of the newer arrivals had a wild gleam in their eyes as they actively looked around. But all too soon, even their memories faded away and they forgot who or what they searched for; these were the lucky ones.

For a pitiful few, no matter how long they resided in the bleakness of the underworld; their memories never faded. The colors, the smells and the smiling faces of familiar people were etched in their minds, like an indelible mark. They drifted about, yearning for what they had lost, never forgetting. This was one sad shade's fate.

He could only stand, day in and out. Watching as the light seem to vanish from incoming souls' eyes. While he slowly went mad. Oh, he tried to talk to people, tried to make friends. After all, death was eternal; if he had to be down here, he didn't want to be alone all that time. But the ghosts almost seemed to look through him, ignoring his own presence as if he weren't there screaming at them.

He stared bitterly at the far-off lights of Elysium, flickering over the impossible heights of Erebus. He knew he hadn't accomplished much in his pitifully short life and didn't deserve Paradise. But why did Fate have to be cruel enough to show it off teasingly out of reach. The other ghosts didn't even seem aware of what they were missing; but he did.

He glanced hesitantly behind him at the sound of water trickling behind. The milky white, River Lethe flowed slowly by, with a surface, flat as a sheet. He knew, all it would take, was just one sip of it; and he'd join the rest of these sorry souls in their forgetful stupor. He shuddered at the thought. He cursed everybody out there, that he could still remember what it was like to be alive; yet he cursed himself for being too scared to take the plunge and make himself forget.

* * *

He sighed as he parked his butt on a lumpy rock and cradled his chin in one hand; when he heard some rather animated chatter. He sat with his back ramrod straight and listened, trying to figure out where the voices were coming from. No one ever seemed to talk in Asphodel, so maybe someone like him had finally arrived. Someone he could at least talk to, if only just to say hi.

He jumped to his feet and ran across the dry grass and through the gnarled poplar trees, zoning in on the talking. When he climbed up the hill and looked down, a greeting was on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly he shut up and looked petrified.

A regal looking lady with a tall crown and in green shimmering robes with a set of panpipes around her neck walked past. But it was the pair of lionesses at her sides that scared the heck out of ghost. He'd never seen lions, except in pictures. And something told him that these were not like Nala and Simba and the rest of the Lion King cast. The lionesses snarled disdainfully at the scenery and swatted their clawed paws at the shades as they passed by. The ghosts barely knew what hit them before their shadowy forms were scattered at once, and failed to reform after. Gulp…

"I agree Lursa, this place is depressingly dead," the woman hissed. "However, I need allies. And what better allies to act vengeance upon the world above than the spiteful dead?"

The lioness on the right huffed in response, while the one on the left quietly strutted next to her master. "Oh, come now, be more like Betor, the sooner we find our spirits, the sooner we will leave." This was no spirit, the ghost figured that much. The lady seemed to radiate power. Even if she didn't have her lions with her, he wouldn't have gone near her. But this was the most interesting thing to happen since he ended up down there. So, he continued to dog her.

The lady picked up her pipes and began to play an airy tune that seemed to lift the mood. A pleasant breeze filled the air, as the grass turned green under her feet and flowers bloomed despite the darkness. The sight of life made the shade shudder happily, until he realized that that the plants wilted and died as the lady walked away.

She interrupted her tune when she stood in front of a ghost. The figure was thin and vaporous, like she was barely there. Cory didn't know if the ghosts simply faded away after a very long time, but if that were true; he figured this shade had to be ancient.

A gleam of recognition lit in the lady's eyes as she raised her pipes and began to blow. She started a lively jig. Her bare feet danced in circles around the shade. The air filled with energy, even eavesdropping shade started to feel the urge to dance, and he was a terrible dancer. Then he watched in wonder as the ghost appeared to grow more solid. Her grey skin began to turn milky white and then cream colored. Her vacant eyes began to glimmer like yellow topaz while her toothy smile became red, luscious lips.

The ghost's straw-like, grey hair fell straight down her back like a waterfall and turned a midnight black. And to top it all off, her sackcloth dress turned a shade of royal purple and became a fine silk chiton with finely stitched embroidery with golden thread. A little golden tiara appeared on the ghost's head as she took in a deep breath and sighed. The shade on the hill gawked, she had to have been the most beautiful lady who ever lived.

The Lady with the lions asked, "my Queen, how do you feel?"

The queen stared at her youthful features and smiled, "I feel reborn. Who are you, and where am I?" The lady in the purple dress looked around anxiously.

"Why you my dear, are in Underworld."

The Queen staggered as she fell to her knees in dismay. "I am dead? It cannot be."

"It is so," the Lady said sadly. "However, I have brought you back to life, my poor Queen."

"I thank thee," the Queen replied. "But who are you, and what do you want with me?"

The Lady stroked her lionesses behind their heads and smiled at the Queen. "I am Cybelle, Mother of the Wild, although call me a sister in arms. We are very much alike."

"And how is that?"

"Why we are both mothers, and we have both received unjust fates."

The Queen snarled, which ruined her beautiful features, "I know very much about being a mother, and look where it got me?" She held up her arms in annoyance as she swatted away at the depressing scenery around her.

"Indeed," the Lady agreed. "But, I could take you away from this place. You could return to the world above and be the most beautiful woman alive."

The Queen's eyes twinkled as she grinned ferally. "And what would it take to do this?"

"I need assistance in dealing with a few pests. As a mother to a mother, may I ask for your help? If you aid me, I will give you what you desire."

The Queen barely waited a moment. "Done. Let us leave this place. Even now, I'm beginning to grow cold again."

The Lady replied, "not just yet. I need one more to add to our ranks before we leave." She turned to a hunched-over old hag sitting nearby. She played a different tune, more fiery and harsh than the last. This figure shuddered as she became solid and stood tall. She didn't have the overwhelming beauty the Queen possessed, nor the radiant power of the Lady, but there was something about her. She had a black aura around her, it almost stunk, but it wasn't a smell; but it was repelling. Even the other ghosts steered clear of this figure. Her hands solidified and I realized that they were horribly burned, as if she had stuck them into a raging fire.

"Eww, who is she?" The Queen asked, repulsed by the figure.

"My dear Althaea, I am sorry for your fate" the Lady cooed.

Althaea glanced at her hands and winced. She looked up and ghost on the hill turned away. Althaea's eyes looked fractured, as if something had broken inside of her. "It hurts," she hissed. "My body, my mind…"

"There, there" the Lady tried to console her. "I know what happened to you. A terrible fate. Even your time here couldn't wash away your pain. But I can." Althaea looked up desperately and clutched tightly at the green robes, despite her burned hands. "Oh yes, you do what I ask of you, and it shall be done."

The Lady turned to the mist and gestured for something to draw near. Someone, or something slithered out of the haze. The figure appeared to be a woman, yet a hiss seemed to rattle just out of sight. Her presence seemed to unnerve the other two ghosts. "Relax, it is just our third sister in arms. We are all together. I have brought you back from death. Serve me well, and I will reward you beyond your wildest dreams. Now come." The Lady with the lions began playing a melody on her pipes and lead her procession of dead but not-dead ladies through the spirits and trees.

When she made it to a pile of giant boulders, she played earnestly as if serenading the stones. The ghost trailing behind them staggered as image after image of untouched wilderness filled his mind. A rushing river after the thaw, a meadow of flowers in springtime, a forest of reds, orange, and yellow burning with autumn color into the distance and many more. All at once, the rocks split, revealing a skinny hallway and an endless set of steps vanishing upward into the darkness. "Come, before the way closes again," the Lady insisted as the group rushed in.

The shade lingered with indecision. The other spirits shuffling around ignored the gaping hole in the rock. The boulders began to shake as the entrance began to fill in. He clenched his hands into fists, closed his eyes and bolted for the hole and threw himself through the opening as it closed behind him.


	2. A Letter From Camp

Son of Poseidon: the Snake, the Vain, and the Pyre

 **Chapter 1: A Letter from Camp**

I jolted from my bed early, like I usually did, at the tail end of a nightmare; which sadly also was just the usual. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I stretched, groaned, and cracked my back. "Gods…" I groaned as I lazily reached over to the desk, by my bed and grabbed a green leather-bound journal and a pen; a present from my absentee, immortal dad, Poseidon.

I've made it a habit of mine to jot down my dreams and write down my day to day stuff. I figured Rachel or someone back at camp could help make sense of the mental clutter that was my teenage brain.

Hi, my name's Alex, Alexander Conecke. I'm just a kid living on the coast of Florida with my mom; trying to coast through my classes and living the dream catching the surf and relaxing. Well, that's how it worked out, until I turned fourteen. Then the shit hit the fan.

It all started with a crazy shark that wanted to tear me to shreds, followed by a giant boar that wanted to gore me, man-eating horses, swarming bunnies… You get the idea.

But I wouldn't trade it for anything. I met a bunch of really cool kids at this camp up in New York and I learned that I had powers, a dad, so that's awesome. Didn't want to learn that all the Greek monsters were real and that there's this crazy nature Goddess named Cybele trying to level mankind to make way for the Wild, but take the good with the bad I guess…

Anyway, I penned away my nightmare about that creepy hiss from the dark and the screams of little kids. I let the journal gently close but stopped the cover and glanced the signature my dad left for me, stamped with a hand drawn trident next to it.

I sighed as I tossed the journal back on my bed with the other two and clomped over to my closet. I yanked out my really worn out beach flip-flops that look like they half-melted from sitting on the hot sand, and my surfboard.

It was a thing of beauty. My mom had gotten it for me after Sharkzilla smashed my old one into splinters. She didn't know the story, but even if I told her, I don't think she'd believe me.

In any case, after I got back from camp, it was leaning against the wall next to a new backpack crammed with back to school gear, (I guess mom tried to soften the blow that school was right around the corner.)

It was long, about ten feet or so. A grown up's board, something I could use for years to come. It was a sparkling sea-green, like the color of the New York Sound at sunrise. There was also something else cool about it. It had a giant bronze trident inlaid.

Now, I know Dad is the God of the Sea, but apparently mom doesn't. Yet she chose that pattern to decorate it. When I asked her why she chose that specific design, she shrugged and just said that it suited me.

I shrugged, it's a cool board, and it was free. End of story.

As I hobbled over the dunes with the wind knocking into the surfboard; I used this quiet time to help organize my thoughts. Not that I had the answer to world peace or deep, philosophical thoughts running through my head. It's just, I like to put my ducks in line, err so to speak.

Riding the waves was soothing. I always felt better on the water. I figured it had something to do with Dad but hey. Just having the sea breeze blowing into my face and the lapping of the water against my feet, was enough to get rid of all my daily frustrations.

Ever since last year, hanging out by the beach had gotten a lot more interesting. Dolphins make for interesting conversation. They know the best places to hit the waves. And they like keeping an eye on me and hanging around. I don't mind, the monsters always seem a bit hesitant to show up when there's a hundred bottlenose dolphins that can swim like torpedoes and armed with fish-gutting teeth skulking in the shallows.

I was in the middle of trying to make a tight turn on a ten-footer, when a dolphin broke the surface and snorted in my face. I shook my face, trying to get rid of the salt spray and wobbled on my board before crashing into the water.

I popped back up over the water and bobbed in place, "fish-friend, really?" I asked the dolphin in annoyance.

It chattered happily as it smacked its fluke on the water and splashed with the strength of a cannonball. 'I am sorry, young lord." The dolphin snorted from his blowhole and chittered. It lurched into the air and spun in the air like a ballerina in a pirouette before crashing back into the surf.

"Right, I can see when I'm not wanted around," I grunted with arms crossed in annoyance. I got back on my board and rather than wait for the ocean to taken me in to shore, I willed the water to whisk me away. I throttled over the waves, as if I had strapped an engine to the back of my surfboard and jumped onto the sand.

* * *

I headed back inside my house and was struck by the wonderful smell of homemade waffles, hash browns and sausages. A feast fit for the gods.

My mom, Sara Conecke, was hands-down the best cook ever. She took some classes in culinary arts before she had me. She could have easily run her own restaurant, between her family's collection of recipes, (which she had memorized by heart) and her ability in the kitchen, coupled with her charming personality. But I came along and threw a monkey wrench in her plans.

Now she works in a diner catering to passing tourists, truckers and a small but loyal crowd of locals. She didn't mind her lot in life, but she deserves more. I wanted to help her, but I wasn't much of a cook. (I can burn water boiling a pot…)

"Hi honey," she called out over the sizzle of oil and the crackle of eggs on a hot pan. "How was the surf this morning?"

I leant my board next to the door and took a seat at the bar behind her. "Picture perfect, and the dolphins were out again."

She smiled as she flipped an omelet and sprinkled some cheese and herbs and folded it before setting it on a plate in front of me, 'Gods help me… The smell was enough to make my stomach roll over and beg.'

As I started forking the food and stuffing myself silly, my mom smiled and added, "I received a letter yesterday I thought you might be interested in." She leafed through the assorted adverts, bills and penny savers and pulled out an envelope with a wax seal in bronze with an impression of a great pine tree paired with a Pegasus.

"It's from Camp" I recognized the seal immediately as I eagerly tore through the envelope.

My mother smiled as she held out a train ticket and slipped it down on the countertop. "You passed your classes, and I know how much you liked that place last year. So, I figured why not head up there again."

I hugged her and smiled. "When is the train leaving?"

I she glanced at the clock, "not till three. I called ahead to make sure someone will be there to meet you at the station. A friend of yours said she'll be there waiting…"

And so, I quickly packed up the essentials to travel across country. A carry on with some changes of clothing, toiletries, my three journals, some food to tide me over, and the letter from camp.

Within hours, I was on the train, slowly chugging along north through Orange County and off for New York. I settled down for the long ride and took the time to read over the letter, since I didn't have anything better to do.

As I read it, my smile faded and an uneasy feeling weighted down on my shoulders…

* * *

 _To Alex Conecke, Melbourne FL_

 _I am sending you this letter to inform you that, it may be prudent that you not come up to camp this year. I would have sent you this via Iris Message, except the Goddess' entire network has collapsed. Communication beyond mortal means has become next to impossible._

 _Though Cybele has been quiet for the year, I fear that she is likely to act in the summer, when the days are longest and the Wild is at its strongest._

 _In any case, a more serious issue has surfaced at camp, some of the campers have gone missing. With no warning, the camper goes to bed and by morning, their bunk is found empty, with no trace. There is no pattern to the abductions, if we can call them that. There doesn't appear to be a struggle, and no one has heard anything. It's as if the campers chose to get out of bed to walk off into the night and never return._

 _The only thing connecting the campers that have gone missing is their age. They have all been very young, across different cabins._

 _I encourage you to stay home while Argus and I try to determine what is going on and recover the missing campers._

 _May the Gods be with you, Alex._

 _Chiron._

* * *

As if I were going to just sit around twiddling my thumbs waiting while who knows what's going on at Camp. And my friends, if young campers are going missing; then what about Shayla?

I could just picture the little girl with blonde, wavy hair, with her grin with a missing tooth. She'd be nine this year. She could very well be in danger.

I clenched my free hand into a fist and stared intensely out the window. 'Don't worry guys, I'm coming.'


	3. Train to Manhatten Monster Free?

Son of Poseidon: the Snake, the Vain, and the Pyre

 **Chapter 2: Train to Manhatten Monster Free? Yeah Right**

I managed the entire thirty-hour train ride without running into a single monster. In demigod terms, we call this a minor miracle.

I was about an hour away from New York City, in this little town in New Jersey. The train had a short stop before pressing on. Nothing special. I could see a single main street that the train tracks ran next to. Across the tracks were a row of buildings: some small Colonials, a convenience store with a fountain, a grocery shop, post office and a tiny white church with a pointed steeple.

At one end of the street was one of those old-fashioned schoolhouses. You know, the ones where there is one big room and all the kids of all ages are taught together. Talk about a recipe for total chaos. It looked like there was a brick add-on to the original wooden building; though based on the stone gargoyles looming over the roof edge, staring down at the pedestrians, the add-on wasn't very recent.

At the other end of the street, was a small health clinic. I couldn't call it a hospital really. It had a rather rusted-looking ambulance parked in the front, and the doors and windows of the building were wide open as if welcoming the outside in. I thought hospitals had to be sterile?

A small, but richly filled flower garden was planted up front. Rose bushes, lilies and gladiolas filled the air with perfume and contrasted the green lawn and lime-green painted building with splashes of vibrant color.

It was a peaceful setting, until a kid charged out of the clinic. Screams and shouts came from inside. A pair of old nurses came out dressed in blue scrubs, with matching paisley hand bags swinging from their elbows as they called out to the kid and gave chase.

The kid I watched, was dressed in a hospital gown, the kind that leaves an awkward draft and leaves your backside exposed. He looked completely panicked, looking in every direction as if trying to find a way to escape. His face was pale, his eyes wide and he panted, as his bare feet beat against the sidewalk.

I wondered what his problem was when I turned to look back at the nurses. I squinted at them, not sure what I was seeing. The white handbags with printed floral patterns, seemed to flicker and spark as if flames were dancing on them. The nurses had to be twins, they looked exactly the same, down to their beady black eyes, heavy case of crow's feet and sharp canines in their glistening, tight smiles. Wait… sharp?

My eyes bulged as their bags erupted into fiery whips and leathery wings erupted through their uniforms and they hovered quickly over the ground on an intercept course for the escapee.

I jumped out of my seat and ran to the door, leaving my stuff unattended. I realized, those two old ladies, were not old ladies. And I had a feeling that kid was a half-blood, about to get thrashed.

I stepped onto the platform, cupped my hands in front of my mouth into a funnel and shouted at the kid, "hey man, over here!"

The kid jerked to look up at me, unfortunately so did the two crazy nurse ladies with whips.

They raised their whips and lashed out and struck the pavement, where the kid's feet had been moments before. The sidewalk seemed to bubble and melt into lava and smoke. They brought their free hands up and bared their fingers, from which glistening claws ripped through their latex surgical gloves. I had a feeling those would work just as well as a surgeon's scalpel.

I concentrated, scoping the scene, assessing my options. A million thoughts running through my head. 'Okay, okay, now what did Chiron say?' I mumbled to myself. 'Weapons… well that was no good. All my stuff was back at camp. Ohh what I would do for a collapsible sword right about now… Use the battle field to one's advantage… I scoped the scene and noticed a possibility. In front of the convenience store was one of those tiny water fountains, those metal boxy-looking things you usually see in schools or in offices.

I shrugged my shoulders and concentrated, pleading that it was running. At first all it did was trickle with a bit of water. I shook my head with annoyance. "That's not good enough, come on!" I felt my stomach dropped as I lurched forward onto the guard rails.

The fountain exploded, sending the metal box of the fountain and the filter rocketing up into the sky. At the same time, a burst of water, like out of a fireman's hose hit one of the old women and sent her flying backward and crashing to the brick wall next to the grocery shop.

The old lady still standing hissed at me angrily as she fixed all of her attention onto me. "Do not interfere with matters of the Underworld, son of the Sea God. Or suffer the consequences!" But before she could say anything more, a whistling filled the air. The nurse looked up and to her surprise, a giant mass of metal, plastic and water crashed down on her like a ballistic missile: the water fountain.

The kid stared at the lady who went splat in disbelief and amazement. "Come on!" I yelled at him, snapping him out of his astonishment. "Get on the train, it's leaving now. We can get away on it."

The kid shook his head and raced up to me. He slammed his feet just when he was close. I thought he was going to leave skid marks on the platform, he stopped so fast. He panted heavily and bowed in front of me, before recovering a bit to look up at me.

His grey eyes looked at me with suspicion and amazement. "Did you do that, err with the fountain and all?"

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly and grinned. "Ugh yeah, saw you were in trouble. Thought I'd help you out. Alex here, who are you?"

His eye brows knitted together as he thought about the question. He glanced down at the metal bracelet around his wrist. When he noticed it caught my eye, he pulled down his gown's sleeve to cover it. "Cooper, my name's Cooper." He paused, as he held a hand on his head, as if he had a major migraine. "Thanks, for the help."

I stared at him, he seemed a bit off. Then again, he did just come running out of a health clinic, with a pair of crazy old demon ladies chasing him. "No prob. Do you know what those two things were?"

He shook his head, which made him cringe. And then he jolted and spoke, "two? There were three nurses…"

And as if to correct me, the third demon nurse fluttered down from the sky and landed between us and the door. The train whistled once. One minute, and the train would chug off with or without us on it.

The lady cracked her whip in frustration, "Son of Poseidon, you don't understand…"

I got in between Cooper and the nurse and spread my arms, "I don't know what you want with him, but you leave him alone! Let us through."

She snarled and bared her teeth, "you make demands of the Furies? You interfere with the will of the Lord of the Underworld. You will pa-gah!" All at once, a bird came crashing out of the sky and dove with talons bared at the fury's face. I watched in amazement, it was a white owl, medium sized, with grey eyes, and black and brown striping on its wings and back. It screeched as it tore at the monster's skin and clothes.

I shook the surprise off and grabbed Cooper by the wrist, "come on man, now's our chance."

I dragged him past the flailing lady lashing out with her clawed, free hand and whipping at the owl with the other, trying to make the bird go away. Only when the train began to move did the owl break off from its attack and disappear into the woods beyond the tracks.

The fury collected herself and turned at the noise of the train whistling. She locked eyes with me and Cooper and growled angrily. Even through the glass and across the quarter mile distance, I could have sworn I heard the contempt in her voice.

6 Page


End file.
